The Boy Who Wanted To Reach Heaven
by epizit
Summary: Living in Down, there's a boy, Dean Winchester, living as happily as this world let him be, with his little brother Sam and his father John. But a chance encounter will change everything, turning his world literally upside down... (Set in the Upside Down verse)
1. Chapter 1

**You guys really need to watch Upside Down. Like, REALLY. Awesome movie!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything and blablabla. Non Beta'd.**

**Enjoy!**

**PS. Currently dealing with the writer's block. Updating when said block lets me.**

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So many stars in the sky, so many no one can possibly know if we're alone in this immense universe, or if every world is the same. Normally a galaxy would come to existence and develop following certain rules, even though no one had actually succeeded in gasping them, since as far as we know all we have are theories, so every existing galaxy could potentially become the mirror image of one another.

Few cosmic rules are given as certain: for one, the bigger the mass of a planet, the bigger attraction it'll have towards other astral bodies, developing a gravity of its own, which will pull any object within its reach towards the surface. Physics cannot be defied, at most only bent.

Given all this, there is one particular galaxy, in a not specified position in the universe, where the usual rules that normally lead its development do not apply. No one can explain why this particular galaxy, and in this galaxy why those two particular planets, or what had happened in its course to make it happen. Not that no one has tried before. In not one, but two planets' history an awful lot of scientists has tried to understand, to make sense of this abnormality, but they had all come to face the same obstacle in their research: what's the question to answer in the first place?

Two almost identical planets in this galaxy have grown, evolved and developed, so close to each other their masses and their pull towards the other have put them in an unexplainable equilibrium, in which the two rotate and orbit around the central star never leaving their reciprocal position, always the same half surfaces of the planets facing one another, like two lovers never looking away from each other.

Both planets have their own gravity, as any other planet in the universe. What makes it all so unique, is that both planets experiment dual gravity: its own, and the other's. How is that possible, one may ask? No one knows. All they know, all we know, is that concerning these two worlds' gravities, only three rules apply:

All matter is pulled by the gravity of the world that it comes from, and not the other.

An object's weight can be offset by matter from the opposite world (called inverse matter).

After some time in contact, matter in contact with inverse matter burns.

Even though the two planets are basically the same, their worlds couldn't be any different. The upper planet, Up, is rich and prosper. Its inhabitants, the so-called angels. The lower planet, Down, is poor and its inhabitants live their lives working for companies that dry the planets from its mineral sources, bought cheaply from Up which sells electricity back to Down at higher price.

The only connection between these two worlds is the TransWorld company, whose tower is built in the exact point where the planets are the closest, and connects them.

Living in Down, there's a boy, Dean Winchester, living as happily as this world let him be, with his little brother Sam and his father John, in a little house out in the hills not far from the city, away from the noise of the factories that keep the economy of this world going. The three Winchesters have lived on their own since their loving mother and wife Mary had died in an accident at the local oil-refinery factory when Dean was only four, and Sam too young to even remember anything. The resounding noise from the explosion in that tragic day still haunted Dean in his dreams, but he wasn't likely to admit it to anyone, not his father nor his brother, even if it made him wake up sweating and scared almost every night.

He was fourteen now, and had started doing commissions for a local laboratory in order to bring home something to add to John's salary, which barely kept them going. Dean did all he could to help, not wanting his father to carry the weight of it all on his tired and crunched shoulders.

Truth is, John hadn't been the same since Mary had died, like a part of him was gone with her, the light in his eyes now out. What kept him going on through all these years were his boys, just kids at the time, now little men that tried their best to bring a smile on his face and that made him remember every day why he hadn't given up on everything yet.

Dean knew just how much John mourned Mary's death, had ever since, that's why he never mentioned nor talked about her in his presence, even if it killed him. He missed her too, he missed his mum so much it hurt him, but even trying not to burden his father reminding him of her, he had always spoken to Sammy about her, making him grow up in the loving memory of a gentle blond woman, whose smile and lovely eyes made this sad world a better place.

He had told him about her voice, the way it caressed them when telling them bed-time stories she made up in the moment to make them sleep. About the sound of her laugh, so contagious it made everyone in the same room smile. About her infinite gentleness, always caring and comforting. He had described to him the taste of the pancakes she used to cook on sunday mornings, the special pink-dusted ones she made that could levitate against Down's gravity. He told him about the special ingredient their mom used on those pancakes, a little secret she inherited from her family, one she'd eventually pass on to Dean and Sam but never had the chance to. He told him all about Mary Winchester, and how he should never ever forget her, cause she had loved them both from the moment they were born and would continue forever.

Despite it all, the Winchesters lived on. Sam was still going to the local school while Dean was done after middle school and started working as a messenger, riding his too big bicycle around town delivering whatever the lab commissioned.

On a rainy day, one like any other, Dean had come home to grab a quick bite before going back to work for the afternoon shift, not able to afford buying his lunch out, even if it meant riding up and downhill for miles in record time, all because he had forgotten to pack it in the morning. While looking for a cloak rummaging through an old chest, his hands had come to touch an old leather book, one he hadn't seen since their mother's death and was convinced John had sold or thrown away, for it potentially awakened painful memories.

Careful and in awe, he had taken it out and skimmed through it, remembering how Mary would keep it on the counter like a cookbook those happy sunday mornings while preparing those delicious pancakes, ones he hadn't tasted in a very long time. Ever since that rainy day, the book had been lying under his bed, carefully hidden, and Dean had taken the habit to reach for it and caress its cover every night, before falling asleep, whispering a goodnight to his mom into the pillow.

Too young at the time to understand its content, in the last few years he had gone from being the lab's messenger to actually work in it, finding all the ampoules and cruets fascinating. It probably helped that the owner, Bobby Singer, was an old friend of John's, but that didn't mean he took Dean in out of pity, he did it because the kid actually showed a natural predisposition for that stuff, something that could actually bring benefits to the business.

For the time he turned seventeen, Dean had an amazing knowledge for a teenager about science and lab stuff, and had actually come to understand all the contents of his mother's book, the most interesting thing being the learning about the pink bees.

Those specific bees, the only ones of the genre, were the only bees to gather pollen from both worlds, which was the main ingredient of the recipe for the flying pancakes his mom used to make. Curious about its other potential uses, he had often fantasized to distil a potion that could invert gravity for him, Sam and John, in order to take them away from the sad Down to the heavenly Up, and grant a more decent and happy life for all of them.

But Dean lived in the ugly real life, and he knew that was just a child's dream. Nonetheless, one day he followed the book's instruction to reach a specific area in the mountains, in order to gather some of that special pollen. What use he would make of it, he didn't know yet: maybe some experiments, maybe he'd only cook his mum's pancakes, just to let Sammy taste their sweet flavor and maybe, just maybe, feel a little closer to the beautiful woman that was Mary, and that he never had the chance to get to know.

So one day, one when his afternoon shift had finished earlier than usual ("You did well, boy! Now go home and rest!"), as he came home he jumped to bed, to rest his tired body, and as usual reached for his mom's book, for once able to read it in the daylight since there was no one at home yet. His fingertips caressed the worn leather of the cover, he always did that, almost hoping that caress to reach his mom, and opened the book. He had read it and read it infinite times through the years, every time understanding a bit more and coming to remember almost all of it to this day, so when he skimmed through the yellowish pages he came to a halt exactly where he knew the indication for the pink-pollen bees were. He read them again, just to refresh his memory, then put the book again in its hidden place before heading out.

Dean grabbed his rusty bike (he had grown taller, so it kinda fit him now) and, as he started pedaling, he looked up. Through the thin layer of clouds he could see the lights of Up, shining bright even if far. He kept stealing glances up above him till the clouds got too thick for him to see anything, then focused on his little trip: the place he wanted to reach was highly forbidden and fenced, whoever was to be found in the area was likely to be captured and convicted, if not shot on sight. He knew it was risky, but he couldn't get his mind off the pink pollen…so he better go with his plan when he had the chance, and this was it.

After a while of pedaling uphill and sweating despite the crisp air that had his throat already sore, he found the path to be blocked by a rusty railing, hanging a yellow sign saying: KEEP OUT Restricted Area DO NOT ENTER. Dean stared at it for a few seconds, then shrugged, deciding not to care, and resumed his pedaling along the rail, trying to find a breach in it or a loose spot where he could slip through. After a long search, he found it a little higher up the mountainside and, after hiding his bike in the nearby bushes, he passed through and started jogging through the woods, following the path he had memorized in his mind.

It took him almost an hour to find the field mentioned by the book, for it lied well hidden, behind a high crest that casted a long shadow on the trees around it, but curiously let the field be touched by the sunlight in certain hours of the day, allowing flowers to grow among the wild grass. When Dean finally found it he had gone around in circles a lot and had eventually lost his way, starting to feel a little worried about his return, not sure about the direction, but his heart had started pumping with joy at the sight of the colored flowers and the buzzing of the bees. A big fat laugh had bubbled up inside of him, and he had let it out while fist-pumping the air and running around jumping and screaming "YES!".

He had brought a clean honey jar and a knife in his backpack, to take some of the flower heads back home and extract the pollen out, following the book's instructions. After filling it completely, he had lied for a few moments in the field, feeling happy and excited while surrounded by the steady bzzz that filled the air, and sure that his mom had been leading him in this task.

Not long after, when he started to feel goosebumps running on his skin, Dean decided to head back. Problem was, he really had gotten lost. The rail had got him off-track already, then all the wandering around had gotten him more and more confused. He pondered a little, trying not to let the panic take over, and finally decided to climb up the crest to get a clear view of the surroundings, in order to find his way out of the woods and back home.

He found it easier than expected: the crest was steep but he was strong and smart, and found a way to climb up top without excessive difficulties. It was colder up there, the chilly wind freezing his hands, a few snowflakes melting on his hot skin as he glanced around and soaked up the breathtaking view: through the light mist, he could see all the surrounding forest and down to the hills where his house was, and further to the city, its lights flickering in the distance. The few clouds above his head were so low he could almost reach them, it felt like being on top of the world. He took a seat there, on the higher place he could find, right on the tip of the mountain, where the rock bent down, forming an open cave, like the mountain itself was offering repair from wind and snow, and enjoyed the silence, now at rest since he had found which way to go.

A few minutes later, as he was about to leave, a sudden idea got to him: since it had taken him so much to find the place, the least he could do before heading back was at least to check if the pollen he had gathered was the right one, even with the pink color being a sufficient sign. But you know, better safe than sorry.

As he sat there, freezing his butt, he took a piece of paper from his backpack and started folding it into a paper plane. Once done, he took a flower from the jar he had filled in the field, and smeared the wings of the plane with the pollen, giving it a light pink shade. It was a bit windy, so probably the plane would go a long distance, with the surplus of the pollen (if it was the right one), it would go up high too. Dean exhaled sharply, really hoping the plane would prove him right, that he hadn't messed up and taken the right flowers, and threw the plane up right in front of him.

As soon as it left his hand, the plane got caught in the wind and started flying, going impossibly high (if not for the pollen) in an erratic route, becoming smaller and smaller, the sight filling him with joy and pride. He did it! He had found the flowers of the pink bees! He squinted his eyes to try to follow its path with his gaze through the few running clouds and the light mist, but it was almost impossible. So he stood there sitting, looking up, hoping for the wind to clear up the air and let him see where his plane had gone, not moving as the minutes passed by.

Ten minutes later or so, he finally got a clear view of Up above him: there were mountains there too, with lot of trees and snow, and it looked closer than ever. Dean hadn't realized the crest had him this high up on his planet, and close to the other's surface. It almost seemed like he could reach it with a jump.

With his heart beating loud in his chest, he squinted his eyes some more, his gaze looking frantically for a little pink dot in all that white and dark green, and almost stopped beating when he saw something moving, something light brown and black.

"Hey!" he screamed on top of his lungs standing up abruptly, excited, his eyes wide with anticipation. If it was an animal, it would probably run away, scared by his yell. Instead, the figure stopped and turned, looking around: was it a person?

"Down here-I mean, up!" he screamed again, his hands around his mouth to amplify his words.

And the figure looked up, his blue gaze reaching Dean even from that distance, making his heart bump frantically, barely contained by his ribcage.

"Hi!" Dean said loudly, waving his arms wildly, a big smile plastered on his face.

"…hi?" was the uncertain but loud response he got.

"Hi!" he said again, excited, still waving his arms frantically, his brain not able to formulate any coherent thought but one: it was his first contact with the other world.

"…I should not be talking with you" the other said after a moment of hesitation, looking away from him, then started to walk away. Dean's eyes widened, not wanting to let go, afraid for the figure to go away, already missing those blue eyes.

"No, wait! Wait! My name is Dean!"

As he said that, the other stopped on his tracks and looked up again, meeting his gaze but not replying. Dean almost couldn't speak, he felt his heart beating in his throat and his mind working madly to find something to say to keep the other from going.

"I threw a paper plane up there a few minutes ago! Have you seen it, by any chance?"

The other moved his gaze from Dean to the surroundings, and took a few uncertain steps around: was he looking for it?

"It's slightly pink!" he added, excited as he had never been before.

The other wandered around for a few moments, then took a few quick steps towards a tree and crouched at its base. When he stood up again, he looked up to Dean and extended his hands, something little and light pink held tight.

"That's it! That's my plane! You found it!" he screamed happily, almost laughing, and started jumping on the spot, the excitement too much for his body to contain. The blue eyes moved from Dean to the pink paper plane, than back to him confused, not really understanding what was going on.

"You can keep it if you want!" Dean said to the other, making him look once again at the paper plan.

"…thanks" he replied, looking up and smiling to him. He smiled back, getting nervous, wondering if the other was as interested in him as he was.

"Hey um, can you go a little higher up there?" he dared to ask, hoping the other would comply and not get scared by his request. The blue gaze stood fixed on him for a while, almost making Dean think that he was about to chicken out, and instead, when his gaze moved to the ground, he half-climbed to the highest spot of the mountain ("Be careful not to slip!"), on a plane rock slightly topped with a veil of snow. Then looked up again, and Dean could finally see him clearly: his pale soft features and impossibly blue eyes and pitch black scruffy hair.

He swallowed hard, before being able to talk again.

"Hi" he said with a smile, finally able to talk normally given the reasonable distance.

"Hi" the other replied, his eyes curious.

"My name is Dean. What's yours?"

"Castiel."

"What's that again?" Dean asked a bit more loudly, not quite catching it.

"Castiel!"

"Dude, what's with the voice?"

"…what do you mean?" the other replied, frowning a little.

"You got a sore throat or something? Your voice is incredibly deep!"

"No, this is my normal voice."

"Whoa, weird!"

He saw the frown on Castiel's face deepen, while his head tilted slightly to the side, and Dean chuckled at the sight. They stood there, looking at each other, not really knowing what to say, but neither wanting to leave.

"How old are you?" Dean asked. From his appearance, he couldn't be much older.

"I'm sixteen."

"Cool, I'm seventeen! So, uh, you living with your family?" Really Dean? That's the best you can come up with? He mentally smacked himself.

"With my siblings, yes."

"Where are your parents?"

"Busy with work, they're never home."

"Ah, tell me about it, my dad's never home either!" Maybe because of this, but Dean started thinking that he and this strange boy shared a bond, something in common, like they could relate. It wasn't a rational thought, more like a sensation that perched from under his skin.

"How about your mom?" Castiel's deep voice asked.

"She's dead…explosion at the oil refinery, twelve years ago." As he said that, he felt a weight falling on his heart. All he usually said about Mary to Sam were things to remind him how she was when she was alive and well, he had only spoken once about her death, then avoided the subject ever since. Talking about it out loud was still difficult for him.

"My apologies" he said, his voice going deeper if possible.

"Thanks…it sucks, but there's still dad. And Sammy too!"

"Who's Sammy?"

"Sam, my little brother. He's almost fourteen now, was only a baby when it all happened, but I try my best to tell him all about her, make sure he doesn't forget."

Castiel nodded a few times, before smiling warmly.

"You're a good brother."

Dean felt his eyes going teary as he stood there, being gazed upon by those honest blue eyes. He smiled back, grateful for his words, their gazes locked in a long silent stare, words needless.

As they realized it was starting to get dark, Castiel broke the eye contact, looking around him before looking up to him again.

"I should go now."

"Wait!" Dean shouted as he saw him turn on his heels, ready to leave. "Can I see you again?"

Castiel looked at him, meeting Dean's eyes, wide and filled with hope, then nodded.

"I'll come back here tomorrow before dark!"

Castiel nodded again, smiled briefly, then started to make his way down the rock, his brown trenchcoat wobbling in the wind.

Dean stood there, watching him as long as he could till he disappeared under the tree branches, the forest hiding him from his gaze. After a last moment of wonder, he started descending the cliff, finding it a bit difficult in the growing darkness of the evening. He managed anyway, and run his way through the woods, below the rail, and back home on his squeaking bike in record time, the flowers in his backpack already forgotten.

"Took you long enough to come home, son." John greeted him as he went through the door, still flustered for the long ride.

"Um, yeah, lost track of time while talking with the others in the lab" he said looking at his feet, not able to lie looking at his father in the eyes, and hung the coat near the entrance.

"You're such a nerd for those things!" Sam's voice came from the bedroom.

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Boys" John warned them, as both brothers smiled affectionately: neither of them were for chick-flick moments, so that little exchange was their own way to show each other love.

"Whoa Sammy, did you grow another half meter while I was gone?" Dean exclaimed as his brother came into the living room, showing exaggerated surprise. He got a laugh in response, and a muttered "Don't call me Sammy" underbreath, which made him smirk. His little brother will always be Sammy to him, even if he had already caught up with Dean's height and was going to grow even taller, but he could become even a giant for all he cared, nothing would change the "little brother" feelings he had towards him.

A little later, the three Winchester settled at the table for dinner, making small talk while eating. Dean flinched at his father's "Has anything interesting happened today?", but was saved by Sam telling them of an interesting debate that happened in class that day, letting him recover his breathing. Thank you, geek Sammy!

Soon later, they all went to sleep and the light was turned off. Dean couldn't get to fall asleep at first, lying on the side, wide-eyed, looking at the wall while in his mind he replayed the strange encounter he had had that day in a loop. All the tension and excitement slowly faded into exhaustion, both physical and mental, and swallowed him in a deep sleep, dreaming of blue eyes and pink paper planes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Working on the next chapter ;)**

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The following day went by like any other, the three Winchester getting up and preparing for another long day of school for Sam and work for John and Dean. They all left the house, with John taking Sam to school as usual since his workplace was closer to it, and Dean pedaling to the lab, his legs pushing on the pedals more enthusiastically than ever before, an incredible excitement filling him and making it impossible for him not to smile though the city streets. But his excitement slowly faded into frustration: hours seemed days to Dean as he constantly checked his watch, waiting for his shift to end, wanting to rush back to the crest with all his being. What the hell, the hands of the clock seemed to have actually slowed down! Was his watch broken? Eager to leave as soon as he could, he kept asking Bobby for the time ("Do you have the devil up your ass or what?"), only getting more and more frustrated as he realized that time had slowed down only in his perception.

He tried to focus his tasks, he really did, but he found it harder than ever, especially in the last hours of his afternoon shift. Instead of noting the progresses of the last work he was on, he kept tapping on the desk with his pen, interrupting the rhythmic noise only to chew on it while glancing at the clock, sigh defeatedly, and go back to the tapping. It eventually grew on Bobby's nerves, who called him "idjit" a couple of time before sending him to store stuff in the back. At least that was something that didn't need his brain to focus, letting it roam free up the mountainside to the very top, hoping a pair of blue eyes and ruffled black hair to be there, waiting for him.

As soon as the shift ended, he darted out of the lab yelling "Bye!" over his shoulder as he ran, jumped on his bike, and pedaled full-speed up to the hills. In record time for that distance, he was already through the rail and woods, climbing up the crest with his heart beating loudly. As he came to stand on the top, he happily found that the air was clean from mist and clouds, letting him have a good view of the forest up above him, on the other planet's surface. He frantically searched for Castiel's figure, but he wasn't there. _Not yet_, he corrected himself, not letting the thought that he might not come after all settle in his mind. He took a seat crossing his legs and putting his hands in the coat's pockets, deciding to wait for him. He had agreed to come, so Dean would wait. He curiously trusted the guy's word, strange thing since he had met him only the day before and not talked all that much, and he was not one to trust strangers. But there was something about him that stirred the right chords, that made him believe in him saying he would come. Well, he didn't actually say it, he had only nodded. But that was enough for Dean.

He kept scrutinizing up above him but eventually had to look down on Down again, his neck sore for the uncomfortable position held too long. He started massaging it, trying to ease the ache as fast as possible, as he wanted to look up again, when he heard a low "Hello, Dean". He stared up abruptly, his neck muscles protesting for the sudden movement but he ignored them, and grinned wide at the smiling face that glanced upon him from above.

"Hey Cas, you made it!" he said happily.

"We had an appointment."

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come" Dean admitted. The other smiled again, his eyes bright.

"So, uh, how was your day?" Really? That was the best he could come up with? Dean mentally kicked himself for his stupidity. He had been thinking about this meeting all day, and now that they were here he didn't know what to say! Castiel didn't seem to notice his internal turmoil, as he simply replied with a "Rather productive. How was yours?"

"Heh, can't say the same."

"Why is that?"

"Just…thoughts, mind elsewhere, nothing much" he replied with a slight blush on his cheeks. Hell no, he'd rather die than admit he was waiting for this meeting like it was the best thing that would ever happen to him. Castiel seemed to be satisfied with the answer, as he nodded and stared. An awkward silence fell upon them, both just staring in the other's eyes, at loss of words. Dean started to feel strangely nervous under the blue gaze, like it was peering into his very soul, unfolding him. He cleared his throat, looking to the side, then looked up again.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, earning a nod from Castiel.

"What is it like, living on Up? Is it really like heaven?"

"I don't know. Life is quite comfortable, but I wouldn't label it as holy as 'heaven'" he said frowning, his gaze going to the horizons before returning on Dean. "Why do you ask?"

"Everyone here calls you 'angels', you know. Some say it's because living there is just like heaven."

"That's not the reason we're called angels."

The statement stirred up Dean's curiosity, making him stand up on the spot, eyeing Castiel inquisitively, like he hadn't taken notice of something in his appearance and was trying to catch up. "Why is that then?"

"It's because we are born with wings."

Dean's jaw dropped to his feet as he widened his eyes in utter disbelief. He stood for a few moments like that, under Castiel's serene gaze, him looking nothing like someone who had just dropped the biggest bomb ever.

"W-what?" he managed to choke out.

"Now not all of us have them, but in ancient times everyone did" Castiel stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't?"

"I do. But you can't see them."

BOOM. Another bomb. Dean's brain was overworking, trying to process all he had just been told about Up's inhabitants and not explode while being at it. He let out a trembling breath, shaking his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts, not looking at the blue-eyed angel that looked upon him. The idea almost made him laugh, it made their encounter sound almost blessed if one wanted to phrase it that way.

"Can you fly?" he asked as he looked up again, the idea exciting him.

"No, I'm…not able to."

"And the others? The ones who have wings, I mean."

"Only some, and the most they can do is levitate a little, nothing more."

"What a pity! If you were able to fly we could, like, actually meet!" As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Dean shut it tight, almost afraid someone had heard him, looking around a little worried. He wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, if caught he surely didn't need blasphemy to be added to his charges.

"That would be…nice."

He glanced up at Castiel, seeing his shy smile and disappointed eyes, and felt a little warm inside at the sight.

"Yeah" he murmured, a little sad: Castiel was a friend he would never meet in person. With his hands in the coat's pockets, he shifted his weight from a feet to the other, wasting time, his eyes still fixed on him while weighting his thoughts.

"Is your neck killing you too?" Dean asked after a while, a half grin on his lips.

"A little" Castiel replied with a chuckle, bringing up a hand to his neck. They both laughed for a while, massaging their sore necks and stealing each other few quick side-glances.

"We should go before it gets dark."

Dean looked up as the other said that, unwilling to part. He didn't want their meeting to end up yet, for he found himself really enjoying Castiel's company, even without all the interesting stuff he had told him and (Dean was sure) still had to. But he could tell the daylight was slowly fading, and he didn't want Castiel to find his way home in the darkness: he didn't know about Up, but there on Down it wasn't the wisest thing to do. Dean sighed his discomfort in the chilly air, and nodded up to him, the other's expression not really happy either.

"Dean"

"Yes, Cas?"

Castiel looked at his hands for a few moments, before glancing up to him, his blue eyes wide and bright. "Would you like to meet again?" he asked, uncertainty making his voice quiver a little.

"Dude, you need to ask?" Dean replied with a big fat smile.

They agreed on meeting a few days later, in the weekend, for their weekly encounters couldn't last more than half an hour or so, given the time it took both of them to reach their meeting place and the short span of residual daylight. They parted with a smile, both looking up at the other a couple of times while climbing down the cliffs, before disappearing into the woods.

The days that led to the weekend passed by with Dean growing more and more eager to see Castiel again, so much it had him thinking. Ok, there was the fascination of the unknown (nobody had ever come in contact with someone from Up, apart from those who worked in TransWorld, and of those only the ones who worked in the Middle Floor) and the exciting risk of being caught, knowing he was doing something prohibited and going places that were forbidden, but there was something more. He actually liked the guy. He was weird, but in a way that he found endearing. He definitely was like no one Dean had ever known and, he was sure, it wasn't just for novelty of it.

It was sad that they couldn't really meet, face to face, like two normal people. As their next meeting came closer and closer, Dean got more and more frustrated about it, and worked his mind endlessly to find a way to overcome the obstacle, not giving up. He couldn't accept the fact that he wasn't able to decide something for himself, it wasn't fair, so he had to make it his own way. And on the very night before the day scheduled for their appointment, a brilliant idea came to his mind, one so amazing yet so simple he had to refrain himself from smacking his head on the wall for not having thought about it sooner, deciding instead to chuckle his delight in the night, careful not to wake Sam.

He got very little sleep, and was out of bed before the first lights of the day. As John busied himself doing a couple reparations in the house (a loose leg of the table, a burnt lightbulb, etc.) and Sam studied, Dean did his best not to reveal his agitation for the approaching meeting, while helping his dad and chopping wood to burn in the fireplace. He had offered to go grab some more after lunch, being it the perfect excuse to leave the house and have the afternoon on his own, and his father had agreed.

"Sam could give you a hand" John had added.

"No! No, uh, no need. The little guy would just slow me down."

"I can hear you!" came Sam's voice from the adjacent room.

"I know!" Dean retorted in the door's direction with a smirk, then turned to his father. "Besides, he's got to study, better leave him to his books."

"Alright then. Sam! Lunch's ready!"

While they all sat at the table, Dean forced himself to eat something but his stomach was knotted shut, for he knew he was about to break one of the biggest taboo of both Up and Down. Yet, he couldn't care less. As soon as he had swallowed a few bites, he jumped out of the seat, waved the others off and ran out of the house, leaving the two Winchesters looking at each other with a questioning expression on their faces.

In a flash he was on the top of the crest again, and again still no sign of Castiel. He snorted a little, recognizing that maybe it was earlier than agreed, but he really hadn't been able to stay at home another minute.

The sky was clear up above him, the air chilly on his skin but he barely noticed, his beating heart strongly pumping blood through his veins, rushing and keeping him warm despite the cold. He lay on his back on the bare rock, not too comfortable but nothing he couldn't manage, and stared hard up. His breath came out in white puffs, slightly fogging his view from time to time, and his mind started wandering.

Dean was feeling excited, but also a little scared for what he was about to do (or at least trying to do, depending on Castiel's answer), not daring to ponder the possible consequences if caught in the act, hoping for his mum to watch over him while pursuing his insane and selfish wish. It has been long since he had last done something only for himself. Hell, he couldn't even remember when last time was. Maybe before his mum's early departure… His research for the pink pollen hadn't been only for him, he had done it mostly for Sammy, so it couldn't really count as selfish.

So there he was, waiting for a blue-eyed angel to appear upon him. The corners of his lips jolted up at the thought. It really sounded cheesy, and somewhat holy, and Dean wasn't really either kind of guy. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop the thought from running around in his head, making his heart beat faster every time he spotted a movement in the woods above.

After what felt like an incredible long time, a brown trenchcoat emerged from the forest, and a blue gaze glanced above, meeting Dean's.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas" he immediately replied, not able to suppress the immense grin that spread on his face. Cas diverted his gaze from him, in order to watch his step as he climbed on the top of the mountain, to the spot closest to the other world. Dean carefully watched him, a little concerned that he might slip on the icy path.

Once on top, the other glanced up again and smiled. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Nah, it's cool, I've just gotten here myself."

They smiled to each other, always a little at loss of words when they were in each other's company, despite both wanting it. After a while, Dean had to sum up all of his courage to bring up the most insane idea he had ever come up with.

"Cas…"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Would you like… to meet me?"

The boy just stared back at the question, a frown slowly forming on his features, oblivious to the crazy bumping of the heart of the boy standing above him, on Down.

"If I'm not mistaken, we already are."

Dean scoffed a little, before rephrasing his question. "No, I mean… actually meet. Like, face to face. Close."

Castiel froze on the spot. Even from that distance, Dean could tell. He had expected that reaction, but seeing it worried him that he had overstepped his boundaries, that after this the blue-eyed boy would call it quits and retreat to the safety of his world, away from the boy that wanted to reach heaven.

"We can't" he said, his low voice trembling a little.

"I know" Dean replied, his heart sinking. Of course Castiel would refuse, why should he want to?

"There is no possible way to actually do that, except in the TransWorld tower."

Dean's eyes jolted up, widening, a spark of hope burning in his chest.

"I think I found a way" he replied, the shadow of a grin on his lips. "You up to it?"

He waited for a reply, watching all kind of emotions cross Castiel's eyes, their gazes locked. Quick puffs came out of his mouth, and Dean saw him gulp a couple times before slowly nodding.

"Alright then!" He crouched down to his backpack, rummaging thought it, head low to hide his wide smile. He finally stood up, a long rope rolled in his hands.

"Grab it and tie it around your waist!" Dean then shouted, before throwing one end up. Castiel immediately reached for it. With his clumsy hands he managed to take a hold of the rope, and did as told. Once done, he glanced up again, his eyes sparkling.

"Dean" he called, breathless.

"Just hold on tight!" Dean said, jumping down the projection of the rock and below it, into the shelter offered by the open cave. He then took a firm hold on the rope, one foot against the roof of the cave where it was lower, and started to pull. He heard a loud gasp coming from Cas, as his feet were lifted from his world's surface, on his way to Down. Dean couldn't stop himself from smiling despite the panting, his arms hurting a little from the long exertion, but keeping it up as he pulled and pulled. He glanced a few times past the rock, to see how close Castiel was and if he was keeping a good hold on the rope, not wanting him to fall back.

As he was at arm's distance, Dean rolled the rope around his body to keep it steady, and reached for him. Castiel, all quivering breaths and impossibly blue eyes, extended his trembling hand. As Dean grabbed his wrist, he yanked him down with a loud shout, catching him between his arms and pushing them both below the wide rock that worked as a roof for the cave in one quick move, before Up's gravity pulled him back.

"I got you" Dean whispered, panting hard for the effort, his arms still gripped tightly around the trembling boy's body. "I got you" he repeated again, steadying his breath, feeling Castiel relax a little.

He then slowly opened his eyes and gasped a little as he found himself staring at the rocky floor, immediately realizing they were floating mid-air between the cave's floor and roof, his own weight balancing with Cas's. The gravities from both worlds pinned them together, and Dean had a hard time distancing himself from the other, a little distance necessary for them to look at each other without getting cross-eyed. They finally managed, both pushing a little on the other's shoulders, and blue met green.

"Hi" whimpered Dean, immediately cursing himself for sounding like a girl who had just met his crush (which wasn't far from the truth, but he would never admit it).

"Hi" replied Castiel, tilting his head a little to the side, a curious expression on his face, the raw emotions from before still reddening his cheeks. The eyes whose color he had noticed from the distance, now seemed deep as the ocean, bright as the sky, and impossibly big from up close. His skin seemed pale in contrast with the mess of black hair, which stuck out in every direction, almost like he hadn't cared about combing it after waking up (not that it would make any difference).

"Hi" repeated Dean, breaking into a happy grin that the other soon mimicked. He started laughing, his mood bubbly, almost finding it hard to believe that he had just pulled an angel down from heaven. It sounded crazily comical.

"What's so funny?" the other asked, sounding a little confused.

"I'm just happy I could finally meet you, you know." He paused a little, feeling a bit awkward because of their bodies peeled together. "Anyway, I know that I said 'close'… but didn't mean _this_ close" he joked, half grinning.

"My apologies" Castiel muttered, averting his gaze and shifting a bit, trying to move away but not having anywhere but Dean under him.

"Yeah, um… how about this?"

Dean managed to make them roll over, the gravities now pulling them apart, making him lie on his back on the cave's floor, and Castiel on the roof. They then moved a little further into the cave, where they could stay at arm's length, and have an almost normal conversation. "Better, huh?"

Castiel gave him a tight lipped smile in response and glanced around a bit, curious about the surroundings. Dean, instead, watched him closely.

"I thought this world would be much different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Just different" he replied enigmatically.

"Well, I hope it's not a bad thing."

Castiel's glance turned back to meet Dean's. "It's not" he smiled.

They talked for a long time, about their lives, about their families, about their worlds. Even with all the differences that came with the different environment they grew up and lived in, the boys didn't feel so much stranger to the other. There was curiosity and wonder in their words and gestures, both happy and excited about this new, strange, totally never heard of before, friendship. It was only their third time meeting, it's true, and the first at close distance, but there was something between them that Dean couldn't quite grasp, something that drew them to one another.

They enjoyed each other's company as long as they could, then Dean had to let him back to his planet, slowly and with utter concern. They talked a little more from the distance, like they were used to, and shared the longest glance before waving and getting off the crests, out of sight and into the woods.

As agreed, they met almost every weekend for months, gradually getting to know each other more and more, with Dean pulling him down into their open cave, both lying on their back, their faces close, Dean not really caring about personal space anymore, as they talked about whatever came to mind.

"You didn't take me for the lab geek, did you?"

"What's a 'geek'?" Castiel asked, frowning a little. Dean smirked, enjoying Castiel's never ending clumsiness with informal speech.

Bits and pieces of their lives were scattered in that cave, for the other to see.

"…then I called him 'assbutt'."

"Ass_what_?" Dean gasped, almost choking on the apple the other had brought him from Up.

"Assbutt. I remember you once told me about this very rude person, whom you referred to as an assbutt" Castiel explained, all the insults he now knew having learned from him.

"Was it maybe 'asshat', Cas?"

"…oh." Dean had a hard time stopping laughing after that.

Eventually Castiel mentioned Dean to some of his siblings.

"Gabriel teased me about it, while Anna was very supportive of our meetings, even if a little concerned."

"What did Michael say?" he asked, watching the other avert his blue eyes elsewhere.

"I haven't told him."

"Why not?"

Castiel took his time before finally meeting up his gaze, an apologetic expression softening his features.

"He had always told me you were all brainless apes" he said, making Dean's jaw drop.

"Wow, ok… that's what I'd call an assbutt!" he replied, earning a small smile from Cas. "Is that why you wouldn't talk to me when we first met?" A nod. "Well… I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Me too."

Shared smiles and shared secrets.

"I hate to say it, and I'm never gonna say it again, and if you tell anyone I'll kill you, but… sometimes I'm jealous of the look dad gives Sammy, like he's the reason that keeps him going." His soft green eyes glanced up at Castiel, the light in them not bright as it usually was, the smile on his lips not reaching them. "Makes me want to scream 'I'm here too', you know?"

At those words Cas lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, startling Dean a bit, who just stared back in that little exchange, not really sure how to react to that small intimate gesture. Something like that coming from any guy would normally freak him out, but this time he actually had to restrain himself from leaning into the gentle hand, which left him confused.

Too soon Castiel retrieved his hand, a gentle expression softening his features as he spoke. "I'm sure they are aware of your presence and importance, Dean."

He hadn't known how to reply.

As time passed, Sam had noticed the change in Dean's behavior and one day, as the latter was walking out of the house on his way to the usual meeting with Cas, he finally cornered him just outside the door, closing it behind them.

"Ok dude, what's the deal?"

Dean's eyes widened, frowning a little. "What are you talking about?"

"Where do you run off to every saturday?"

The eldest brother gulped a little but put on his best pokerface, which would have fooled anyone but not Sam: he knew him damn too well.

"Nowhere, just… wandering around."

"Bullshit" Sam retorted, bitchfacing him as if to say 'You have to do better than that to fool me'.

"Really, Sammy, it's noth-"

"Don't you 'Sammy' me, Dean. Tell me exactly what you're up to or I'll tell dad about the leather book and the flowers." The other paled a little. "Yes, I've seen you putting it under the bed, and I've also found the pink pollen flowers you brought home more than a month ago."

"You've been through my stuff?" Dean asked, incredulous. Now he was getting pissed.

"I opened your backpack thinking it was mine, and once I've seen the book and read it the pieces of the puzzle got together. Now tell me" he towered on him with all his consistent height, a sharp stare fixed on him, "what's the deal?"

"I, uh" Dean muttered, his eyes evading his brother's inquisitor glare, his brain overworking to find a way out. In the end, he figured telling Sam would be best. He looked up to the sky, then met his gaze, breathing out a defeated sigh. "Alright Sammy, I'll tell you everything tonight. But now, I really need to go." He moved to walk past him, only to be pressed back against the wall with a firm hand splayed on his chest.

"No, Dean. You're just avoiding my questions."

"Sammy" he said, putting both his hands on his brother's shoulders, locking their eyes together, "I promise I'll tell you everything. Just, not now."

"Why not?"

"Cause I'm gonna be late if I stay here any longer. So, please, can you wait till tonight?" Dean told him with a pleading look. The youngest Winchester eyed him carefully, pondering if he was to believe his brother or not. Dean didn't know what showed on his face, but whatever it was, it seemed to satisfy Sam enough to let him go, despite the frown still lingering on his face.

"You promised."

"I know." Dean reached for his bicycle and looked over his shoulder to his brother before leaving. "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam smiled despite his worry and resentment: it had been a long time since his brother had kept something secret from him, and that hurt him a little, even if he was a little relieved with the promise the other had made.

With one last glance, Dean started pedaling towards the mountain, leaving a worried Sam behind, watching him as he moved further away.


End file.
